


Ballroom Grandeur

by emblem_oracle



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Alcohol, Fluff, M/M, Post PoR, Pre-Slash, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 12:26:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10808988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emblem_oracle/pseuds/emblem_oracle
Summary: “Ike,” Soren said slowly. “You can’t dance. I can’t dance.”“So?” Ike shrugged. “I think I still want to try.”On the day of Elincia’s coronation, Ike makes an offer.





	Ballroom Grandeur

**Author's Note:**

> Uploading this again because the ending got cut off in the original. Then, when I fixed it, error messages kept appearing and sections were removed. So, I thought it was easier to just reupload it again. Hopefully, it will work this time.

The ballroom was dim. The lights of the chandeliers had been set low, casting the room in shadow and amber. Everything from the dance floor to the tables on the balcony overlooking it were bathed in orange - a sort of shade which was extremely easy on the eyes yet visually impressive.

Soren remembered reading somewhere that special mages called 'enchanters' were employed to 'enchant' the chandeliers, allowing their light to be altered on command. He had never met such a person to confirm whether that was true or not. Yet, he could think of no better explanation, and so he let the thought drop from his mind.

"Ikey-poo!" Aimee squealed from the floor below, earning her dirty looks from everyone she passed. Soren's eye trailed the shopkeeper as she strode around, screeching for Ike over the music, and he resisted every urge in his body to hush her. "Where are you~~?"

"Would ya' shut up 'bout him already?" Shinon said and, for once, Soren was grateful for him being there; drunk and all. He was clearly swaying and unsteady on his feet. Gatrie simply laughed at him; his own face flushed beyond recognition. The pair were making a complete fool of themselves. Soren was glad he hasn't partaken in the alcohol.

" _'Ikey-poo, Ikey-poo!'_ Sing a new…" Shinon hiccupped. Titania, who was watching from behind the man, buried her head in her hands. " _Sing ah new song already…"_

Aimee scowled up at him and seemed oblivious to the staring of the other dancers. "A man like you could never understand the allure of a man of Ike's calibre. Now, go back to your drunken stupor."

Soren snorted as Shinon's eyebrows nearly shot out of his head. Titania, though, quickly rushed forward; grabbing the man before he could destroy the Greil Mercenaries' newfound reputation.

"I'm going to go outside now," Aimee announced, clearly enjoying Shinon's annoyance with her. "I'm sure I'll run into him somewhere."

And with that, she was gone. The dancers breathed a sigh of relief.

Thinking of the commander, Soren had barely seen Ike all evening. He'd all but disappeared after joining Elincia on her first dance as queen. From what Soren had gathered, Elincia had asked him to come with her to one of the rooms beyond the hall.

Soren chose not to think into that. Into what that meant. Elincia's adoration for Ike was well known and she was considered a somewhat _pleasant_ person to be around. If Ike chose her, then Soren wouldn't be surprised.

Ike would be a fool not to, really.

Soren picked up a wine glass and choked it down, hoping to dash away the thought. The taste was bitter and unpleasant but he somehow managed to keep it down.

"You drink now?"

Soren almost leapt out of his skin.

"Ike!" Soren breathed and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don't sneak up on me like that."

"Oh. Sorry. I thought you heard me walking up."

Soren sighed. "Don't worry about it… It's fine." Soren turned in his seat to face the commander and forced down his numerous questions. He was ready to completely swipe the matter out of his mind.

And then he saw Ike's face.

He seemed… stricken. Or maybe even disturbed. The ease of a smile he'd worn all day had disappeared, replaced with a thin line. Soren raised his eyebrows. "Are you alright?"

Ike blinked, "Hm?"

"I said, are you alright?" Soren repeated. "You seem bothered about something."

It wasn't much, but a slight smile returned to Ike's lips. "Nothing ever gets passed you, huh?" He let out a curt chuckle which dripped into a sigh. "It's nothing to worry about. I don't really want to talk about it right now. I'll tell you later."

"Alright."

Ike moved to sit on the chair beside him and they both turned to watch the dancers. Mist was surprisingly good and she twirled with Rolf across the floor, perfectly in-step with the music.

Boyd, though… Soren was so humiliated for him, he could barely bring himself to glance in his general direction.

Then, remembering what had happened earlier, Soren spoke. "By the way, _Ikey-poo_ , your admirer was causing a scene.

"Oh jeez. Where did she go?"

"Outside. I'll help you hide under the table if she comes back."

Ike laughed - properly this time. "You're the best."

Soren smiled and turned back to watch the dance again, trying in vein to force down the warmth in his chest. Even though he was facing the floor, he was acutely aware that Ike hadn't turned back. He was still looking at him. Soren tried to ignore it, brushing it off as nothing.

Then: "Hayy, Soren. Let's dance.

Soren blinked. "Sorry?"

"Us. Dance. Surely that's more fun than just sitting here." Ike stood from his chair, pausing to kick it under the table.

"Ike," Soren said slowly. "You can't dance. _I_ can't dance."

"So?" Ike shrugged. "I think I still want to try. Besides, I have been dancing so much tonight that I could become a professional. I won't force you if you don't want to though."

If he was honest with himself, Soren really didn't want to. He didn't want to degrade himself by attempting something he knew he couldn't do. However, Ike still seemed saddened and he was looking rather hopeful at the prospect…

"Alright," Soren ceded.

Ike offered another smile. "Great. Here," he extended out his hand, "Let's go."

Soren took it and they made their way downstairs.

It was hard not to feel exposed down on the ballroom floor, especially knowing that so many people were observing from the balconies above. Soren tried to push the feeling out of his mind and focus on Ike, who stopped them in one of the quieter sections of the floor. 

Ike’s face looked almost tan in the orange light. “Put your left hand on my shoulder,” Ike said. Soren gingerly followed the instruction. His hand rested stiffly upon the shoulder blade; pale skin obvious against the crimson of Ike’s clothing. Apparently, it was an old Crimean military uniform.

“Am I the woman in this routine?” Soren quirked a brow as Ike adjusted his hand’s placement.

Ike shrugged. “Well, I’m both taller and bigger than you. Though you can lead if you want.”

Soren shook his head. “You can lead.”

“Okay,” Ike said. His hand slowly moved to fall on Soren’s waist. Soren’s robes were thick and heavy, but he could still feel the warmth of Ike’s hand as it settled into place.

“Give me your right hand,” Ike said. Soren offered it to him and Ike clasped it with his own free hand. Ike paused for a moment, staring at their knotted fingers, before he said, “Your hands are really small.”

Soren wasn’t quite sure how to react to that so he said nothing. Instead, he asked, “So? Now what?”

“Now we move our feet. Just step when I step and try to avoid the toes.”

To say their dancing was stiff at first would be an understatement. Soren hadn’t lied when he’d said that he couldn’t dance. He spent the first few songs staring at their feet; trying his utmost not to trip over them.

However, slowly, Soren could feel himself relax. His steps steadily became more fluid and natural. Ike lead him with a strong arm across his back and a steady hand. He was a good instructor, even though he still wasn’t the best dancer.

“Come a little closer,” Ike said at one point, eyes distant. “You might find it easier to move with me.”

Pressed up close to Ike’s chest, head resting just below his nose, Soren couldn’t help feeling that he was being intrusive. That he was crossing some line he wasn’t meant to breach. Ike should be dancing like this with Elincia, not his cold, harsh mess of a best friend.

Still, here they were. Ike’s eyes glided over Soren’s face and seemed to find great fascination in it. If Soren wasn’t so engrossed in their feet, he might have questioned it more.

A solo flute piece began echoing across the floor; the song slow and sweeping. Even Soren could admit the piece had a charm to it, although it wasn’t entirely to his taste.

Soren glanced up and the feeling of being intrusive intensified. With Ike looking down at him and him looking up, their faces were mere inches apart. From the angle, Soren could even see the fine specks of stubble littering his chin.

Then, something strange happened.

Ike leaned down and placed his forehead against Soren’s, his breath hot against his cheeks. Soren momentarily stilled. Had Ike been drinking? He hadn’t seen him do so but the movement was so odd he could think of no better explanation.

His breath didn’t smell of alcohol either.

Locking eyes with Ike, Soren forced himself to speak. “Ike… what are you…?” 

“You think too much,” Ike said, eyebrows furrowed. A couple of people were giving them strange looks now, but Ike was either oblivious or ceased to care. “I can see the gears working in your head. It’s quite exhausting to watch. Just… try to go with it, okay?”

Soren swallowed thickly. “Um… Alright.”

Ike pulled back and adjusted his grip. “You ready?”

“As ever.”

Ike nodded and the dance began anew.

* * *

 

By the end of the evening, Soren was sure his feet were going to fall off.

He had walked through mountains and navigated through snow. He had walked for miles on an empty stomach. He had practiced spells from morning to morning, unceasing. He was far from unfit. Still, by the time the ball was winding down, Soren’s feet had effectively gone numb.

Not that he minded, particularly. Despite his initial awkwardness, the experience had been interesting. Maybe even fun.

The dancing had helped lift Ike’s mood, at any rate. Still, all good things had to end.

 “My darling Ike!” Aimee shrieked, spying them from the balconies above. “I have finally found you.”

 “Oh, for the love of--” Ike groaned, bowing his head in silent defeat. He dropped his hand from Soren’s waist and Soren took a few steps back.

 “Where have you been, my dear? I’m sure you have been eagerly awaiting me,” Aimee said, making her way over.

Ike whispered, “Too late to hide?”

Soren shrugged. “She has seen you. You could probably still make a run for it.”

“Right. Come on, then!”

Soren didn’t have time to ask before Ike had renewed his grip on his wrist, dragging him off the floor and away from the meddling shopkeeper.


End file.
